Let's Live Nice

Pages

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Ever have your snow globe shaken?

Certain books, interactions, and experiences have “shaken my snow
globe.” They introduced many new ideas, and they shook up old beliefs and
ways of viewing the world.

It feels exhilarating at first as the snow and glitter fill
the air. “Wow, look at all the sparkles!” I marvel at the new ideas floating
around in my mind. They pique my intellect. They speak to my heart. They
show me perspectives on the world that I hadn’t experienced before. I walk
around with the ideas in the air feeling the delight of curiosity and the thrill
of wonder.

I remember reading Mountains
Beyond Mountains, which detailed Dr. Paul Farmer’s life and service from
Harvard to rural Haiti. It was the first time that my heart fully grasped
extreme poverty, and I came to believe that I could do something radical about
the world’s suffering. I was alight with passion, empathy, and drive to make
the world a better place. I remember my interactions with my nephew in his first week of life, sitting up together at 3am so my sister could get some rest. He was so small,
vulnerable, and radiant with love. These interactions sparked a small fire inside me that motherhood felt right despite my intellectualized debate –to have a
baby or not to have a baby. I remember enduring a 10-day silent meditation
retreat, and the sense of peaceful empowerment I gained from learning new skills to work with my mind. Returning from the retreat
center, I felt like my spirit had found a way home. These catalysts in my life initially
filled my mind with awe and my heart with love.

But then a pinprick of concern occurs. As the snow and
glitter begin to descend I think, “Where is this going to settle? What does this
mean for my life?” Many of the new ideas challenge old perspectives or habits.
While I marveled at these new concepts, I still have not parted with some
former beliefs that the new ones may challenge. The concern grows into strong
discomfort. The new and the old are all scattered about simultaneously because
for me the old does not leave as quickly as the new comes in.

The possibility of confronting global poverty, the desire of motherhood,
and the power to understand my own mind – I questioned how these new perspectives fit in with
my other goals and ideas. Would embodying these new ideas require me to become
a world-renowned humanitarian, a stay-at-home mom, or an enlightened Buddha? These
books, interactions, and experiences have given me something so valuable, but
how do I incorporate them into my whole self? What about my other professional interests,
my involvement with my local community, my investment in my family, my fulfilling hobbies?

Cognitive dissonance takes hold. The rational part of my
mind tries to quickly solve the situation, “Ah, I see that new belief is better
than the old and I will change. Done!” But the emotional parts of my mind take
more time to work through the implications of change. Sometimes it happened through
a toddler-style temper tantrum. Panic sets in and I am crying in snotty heap on
the floor or defiantly protesting the new ideas with my arms crossed sitting in
the corner of the couch. “No, I don’t wanna!!! I like the comforts of this old perspective.
I will never be happy again!!” With a bit of personal growth, I have learned
skills to identify the particular emotions and sit with them. “I am scared that
this new belief will require me to give up something that is still important to
me.” I try to distinguish between irrational fears: “I must now move to a
different country, spend all my time healing the sick and digging wells, and
never think about any other personal interests.” and legitimate concerns: “I
feel scared about the change in my education and
career path that this new perspective may lead me towards. I am not sure I am ready.”

Identifying and sorting out my fears and emotions doesn’t
immediately change them. Sometimes I attempted to shovel and sweep away the new
ideas as a means of dealing with the cognitive dissonance. This response seems
to just repress the emotion and delay the change, but sometimes that is the
only action I feel capable of. I push away the new to give myself space to deal
with the old. I haven’t been able to forget my snow and glitter experiences, especially
when they caused such marvel at first, but maybe some people do. Sometimes I get
angry with myself for not being about to fully transform as quickly as my
rational assessment. “I should be able to just embody this awesome new
perspective right now!” This only makes me feel worthless or manipulates
me into accepting something I don’t feel fully behind quite yet. (See “Stepping out of the Should Trap”)

After seeing this happen over and over again, I try to
acknowledge the panic I feel. I then consciously recall past times when I have gradually integrated new beliefs successfully improving my life. After
remembering these experiences, I give myself the safe and loving time and space
needed to adjust. Rather than beat myself up for my inability to change
instantaneously, I accept that shifting perspective is not like flicking a
switch for me. It is something I have to slowly take hold of and gradually
accept how new ideas transform all aspects of my life. Having this
understanding and being gentle with myself through the process has let me enjoy
the wonder of snow and glitter with less of the panic, berating, and fear when new ideas and feelings enter my world.

Since changing perspectives can cause such discomfort, it makes sense that people often get stuck in their ways of viewing the world. Maybe some people prevent future snow globe shakings after feeling the challenges that it causes. By acknowledging that change is a process and being patient with ourselves and others, maybe we can foster more flexibility in perspective. After learning to observe my own response to new ideas, provide patience for my integration, and connect the perspective change to life improvement, I more readily search out new perspectives. I think back on how many times I have scoffed at people's positions and inability to hear new ideas. Acknowledging that this process is challenging and gradual has helped me be more accepting and less begrudging of others at different stages. In the same way that I have learned to give myself space and support, I see that I can now offer that to others.